Batman: Legacy
by Nobody's Shining Knight
Summary: The story of a boys journey to earn the mantle of the Bat-Man from his father, make up for his mothers sins, and prove his humanity and worth as a human being. OC. Please Review.
1. Chapter 1: Childhood in Darkness

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bat-man or any characters in this fic. The main character is an orignial but he is based on an existing character that I also do not own.**

**Enjoy.**

Chapter 1: Childhood in Darkness

The room they locked him in was dark.

They hadn't bothered to install lights into the cell because it had been built for darkness.

Curling up into a corner of the cell the boy shivered, looking frantically around the cell. His eyes adjusted to the din, and he relaxed when he realized he was alone.

Many times before this one his grandfather had drugged him and put him into darkened rooms, with three trained fighters. The second he would wake the fighters would set upon him kicking and punching him…hurting him. The first three times he had been knocked unconscious within the first minute, but after that he got smarter. He soon managed to fight back, holding his own for longer periods of time. By the fifteenth time they had locked him in the darkness, he could take down more then 10 full fledged assassins. That wasn't enough though…it was never enough for grandfather, nothing was.

Now every night while the boy slept he had to keep his wits about him. Sometimes in the night the fighters would come into the room and start to attack him while he slept. How often had he been woken by a fist in the dark? Truthfully he'd lost count. Like all other aspects of his life, sleep was not a peaceful act anymore…it was a survival test; which was why he slept in a different part of his room every night, a small effort to keep the element of surprise. Ignoring the illusion of comfort of the bed he curled up in his corner under a table, a blanket wrapped around his narrow shoulders as he drifted in and out of sleep.

Inevitably in his dreams, she was there…

Most of his memories were of the darkness, but one memory that he couldn't place told him of another life he had long ago.

A woman with dark hair, whom he called 'mother', would tell him stories while he sat in a bed, in a room with lights and colors. As he fell asleep she would kiss him goodnight and leave the room, always leaving one light on so that he wouldn't get scared.

After that memory everything was darkness.

He must have been four years old when his mother brought him to grandfather. He'd clung to her legs when the man came forward, a smile on his face that scared the boy to his core. Then his mother had turned to leave and as always he followed her…like the ducklings in some of his story books. A hand had clamped onto his shoulder and looking up he had seen a tall scary looking man in black robes. He called out for his mother but she'd just kept walking, out the door, and out of his life.

He'd cried for a long time, sitting on the floor crying for his mother, scared, and alone. When he couldn't cry anymore, couldn't speak or even whimper his grandfather had come forward again. He had nodded to one of the big scary men in the room and the man had grabbed the boy by the back of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. He'd flailed uselessly scratching the man's arm with his finger nails and kicking his legs.

"That is what you are forever going to do, fight," His grandfather had said gripping his chin hard and forcing the boy to meet his eyes.

"Listen to me boy…you are not a child anymore, today will be the last day you cry. If you cry you will be punished, if you show fear you will be punished, if you disobey you will be punished. You will train when I tell you, you will eat when I tell you and you will sleep when I tell you…only when you have my permission will you do anything."

The boy had whimpered a bit but still had no strength to cry.

"You live to serve me boy, it is why you were born, I am your master now and you are my heir."

"Mama," the boy had whimpered. His grandfather had curled his lips into a venomous smile, "You don't have a mother anymore... and after I train you, you yourself will make sure you don't have a father either."

That was when he had cried again and just like his grandfather had said…he was punished. The big man had taken him to this very cell and locked him in the dark. He'd cried and sobbed, begging to be let out of the darkness but they had left him in there. Finally he had hidden under the small bed in the room and stopped crying…he couldn't anymore, so he instead he thought of what his grandfather had said. The boy had a father…his grandfather hated his father. His father must have been a good man. He wanted to meet him now. After an hour his grandfather had come to retrieve him. For the remainder of that horrible day, his grandfather had given him orders. He'd eaten when ordered, bathed when ordered, and slept in the darkened room when ordered…since that horrible day he had never cried. Since that horrible day…he had never seen the light.

What was left of his childhood would be spent in darkness.

Age 5

He tensed as daggers hit the wall behind him, narrowly avoiding his body. He stood perfectly still, knowing what would happen if he disobeyed his grandfather's order's to remain at the wall. The five men in black continued to throw the sharp knives at his body. He felt traitorous tears push at his eyes and biting his lip he tried to ignore them. A knife sunk into the wall near his head with a dull 'thud' and he bit his lip harder, drawing blood trying not to scream. A knife struck the wall, slicing an inch into his arm in the process. He let out a whimper of pain and instantly arms grabbed him and tugged him to the dark room.

Two days later when they let him out they had put him at the wall again. Two knives sliced cuts into his skin…he didn't even bat an eye lash.

Age 6

He pounded uselessly against the coffins wooden lid, screaming and clawing at it. He ignored the pain of splinters digging into his finger tips as he clawed at the lid. Hot tears streamed down his face, and broken sobs filled his throat as he pounded against it.

"_You are not allowed to cry boy,"_ The radio in the coffin next to his head crackled as his grandfather spoke through it.

"Please…out," he begged.

"_I didn't give you permission to speak boy…you will remain in there for another hour, until we bury your fear."_ With that the connection broke and the boy was forced to whimper in silence. After a few minutes he fell asleep, waking only until he heard the sound of shovels hitting the top of the coffin lid. He was lifted out of the coffin and pulled out of the ten foot deep hole they had put him in.

His grandfather gripped his shoulder with a smile.

"Good boy, we have buried your fears of claustrophobia yes," His grandfather asked. The boy franticly nodded his head.

"No complaints or words of fear," His grandfather asked. The boy shook his head.

"Good."

Age 7

The boy gritted his teeth as the bear sliced claws along his arm. Rolling away from it he turned to face the massive grizzly as it roared at him.

His grandfather's men had kept it for nearly two weeks in a cell, shocking it, throwing things at it…starving it.

Now mad with hunger the bear struck out at the only chance for food it had had in nearly a month. The boy spun out of the way of its claws again and backed against a wall.

The boy saw the sword that was tossed down from the observation deck above.

"Kill it," his grandfather ordered. The boy knew what would happen if he disobeyed and low so that his grandfather wouldn't hear he said, "I'm sorry."

Grabbing the sword he lunged towards the bear. At least the bear would be free in death…the boy however was trapped in his living hell of a life.

Age 8

"We're honestly supposed to listen to this little brat when the boss dies," One of the men asked. The boy stood silently at his grandfather's side when the assassin berated him, while inside he felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. His grandfather frowned.

"What is the problem with this boy taking over my league of assassins?"

"He's a brat sir, with all do respect are we supposed to take orders from him or change his diapers?" A few men chuckled in the huge congregation of black clad killers that were in his grandfather's headquarters. His grandfather calmly took out a gun and gestured to the boy. He calmly walked over to stand next to the assassin who had spoken and stared resolutely ahead. When the bullet grazed his arm and dug a tunnel into the edge of his shoulder he didn't flinch or move, like his grandfather had warned him against.

When his grandfather did the same to the assassin the other man howled in pain.

"This brat is a better killer then you," his grandfather said.

Then he shot the assassin in the head and those who had chuckled earlier. The other assassins murmured a bit before dragging there dead comrades out of the room.

The boy realized his grandfather had been complimenting him…that sickened him more then anything in the world.

Present Day- Age 9

The boy sat in his room, hiding once more in a new spot so he could sleep. This time he was beside the bookshelf that held all of the weapons his grandfather had given him. According to his grandfather the boy would soon be filling up a trophy room with weapons and belonging of the people he would kill once he led the League of Assassins. Earlier that day the league's new personal doctor had snuck the boy a birthday present. The new doctor, Doctor Cassidy, was the only one who showed the boy any form of kindness in the headquarters she looked so sad when she had to treat the boys for wounds he received in training. The pretty woman had only been there for a week, but the boy already liked her more then anyone else in his life, and that was before she'd given him the gift. So it was that the boy had a cookie in his stomach instead of just his standard meal of meat, vegetables, fruit, water, and milk. His grandfather wanted him healthy so he could lead his empire after all so treats were out of the question. He could still taste the cookie a little and he'd wished he'd saved it but the warm treat had smelt so good he couldn't resist. The cookie was already more then anything he'd received but the doctor had also given him his first set of clothes that weren't black. He was wearing them right now…since his grandfather would probably get rid of them the next day.

Today was his 9th birthday…a way of showing he'd survived 5 years of assassins training. It was also one year closer to his inevitable 10th birthday, when his grandfather fully intended to make the boy kill his first human target. The bear he'd been forced to kill, still haunted him in his dreams.

_Make a wish…_

His mother's voice drifted briefly through his memory of his fourth birthday; the day before he'd been brought to grandfather. If he'd known what would happen he might have wished to stay with his mother. Now though, he didn't even really think of her as his mother anymore. She'd abandoned him was what the assassins would say when grandfather wasn't around. After all he'd been through…he couldn't love that woman anymore.

_Make a wish…_

The boy leaned his head against the wall.

What did he wish for? On your birthday you could get a wish…he'd never wished before, maybe it would come true.

Closing his eyes he thought carefully. Then memories of his grandfather speaking of the person he hated and feared more then anything in the world surfaced, the horrible plans he made so that the man he spoke of could be the boys first victim…that could be his wish.

Quietly, he whispered, his voice quiet and shaky from disuse, "Wish for father…_save me_."

With that he fell asleep.

Doctor Kendra Cassidy carefully snuck out of the League of Assassins headquarters and made her way into the woods surrounding the manor like building. Removing the red wig and glasses she was wearing she pressed the tiny transmitter in her ear.

Miles away the transmission was answered in a dark cave filled with bats.

"Bat-Girl," the voice asked.

"It's me I've found Ra's and his new base," Cassandra Cain answered.

"Was your mission to infiltrate the League successful?"

"Yes, I know why they've been quiet for so long…Bruce, you won't believe this…"

-to be continued-


	2. Chapter 2: The Rescue

Chapter 2: Rescued

Hands abruptly grabbed the boy in his sleep.

Reflexively he lashed out aiming for the eyes of whoever had grabbed him. The person was fast though and managed to duck enough so that the blow struck high on there forehead. He blinked when his fingers buried in long hair, but it felt weird. Curious now more then anything he tugged on it. His attacker however was to fast and with a quick chop to the boy's wrist, loosening his grip, they jumped back. Now though the boy was motivated and he followed the person, leaving his blanket behind as he leapt from beside the bookcase and lunged for the persons head. The person wasn't quick enough this time and he managed to yank on there hair…which surprisingly came loose. As he landed back on his feet the boy lifted up the persons red hair…red hair?

Looking up the boy could only make out a few features of the persons face in the dark…but he recognized her.

The attacker was Doctor Cassidy, and she had been wearing a wig. The hair on her head now was dark black.

"Calm down kid, I'm not here to hurt you."

Instantly the boy was back on guard, vanishing into the shadows like he was one with them.

"Like father like son," Cassandra muttered trying to sense where the boy had gone.

"Really, I'm not here to hurt you, I'm here to help you…your father sent me to help."

The boy stilled in his hiding place. He didn't speak, years of training and punishment rendered him mute, unable to ask any of the many questions that had suddenly surfaced in his mind.

Cassie had heard the boys quick intake of breathe, and while she still didn't know where he was, she knew she had his attention.

"I know who your father is, I work with him, he is family to me…I assume that Ra's has told you your father's name?"

He had but the boy remained silent.

"His name is Bruce Wayne," Cassie finished, hoping that her judgment had been correct and that she hadn't just blown one of the world's biggest secrets to a nine year old. When the boy dropped onto her shoulders from the ceiling fan, she thought she had blown it, until he clung desperately to her shoulders. The boy was shaking like a leaf, refusing to loosen his grip even the slightest bit.

"I'm guessing you want to see him," Cassie asked. The boy nodded desperately. Cradling the boy carefully against her chest Cassie pressed the transmitter in her ear.

"I've got him," Cassie said.

"_Can…can I talk to him?"_

Cassie smiled at the hesitance and fear in his voice. He sounded like a father asking to hold his newborn child for the first time, afraid he'll do something stupid like drop them. Her smile fell when the boy looked at her silently and tried to mouth something to her.

"Bruce," Cassie hesitated, "From what I can tell, Ra's messed him over pretty good, he doesn't talk unless he has permission from Ghoul…he's too afraid to."

"_....I am going to kill that man."_

Cassie didn't want to ask if he meant he'd beat him up or literally…well, off him.

"I'm bringing him out," Cassie said.

"_I'm coming to help," _Bruce said.

"Whoa, hold on there big Bat, the League's on high alert down here, and let's just say short of painting a red target on your chest showing up in the cape and cowl is just asking to provoke thoughts along the lines of 'Shoot first check the body later'." Cassie said.

The boy watched fascinated as she spoke to no one, or rather argued with no one. He was only mildly interested in the conversation though as he was more perplexed with how Dr. Cassidy was holding him…actually holding him. The last time he'd been held had been during training practice while one of the trainers had tried to strangle him. This was different though, it made him feel safe and content…a hug, that's what it was called. Shifting slightly the boy slid to the ground and held on tight to Dr. Cassidy's hand, waiting for her to look at him again.

When Cassie looked back to the boy she felt something curling in her stomach as the boy stared up at her with big curious blue eyes.

'Not scared one bit that I might be deceiving him… probably not worried, with what I've seen of him for a week, he could probably break my neck if I let my guard down for a second,' Cassie felt guilty for thinking that way when the boy crowded closer to her legs, like a lost puppy.

"_I'm coming in the jet, I won't engage Ra's' men unless you need assistance…but I'm coming." _The link cut, effectively telling Cassie that Bruce had no intention of being argued with. With a sigh she tugged on the boy's hand. When he resisted for a moment Cassie turned back around.

The boy's eyes were wide with horror and he shook his head back and forth trying to pull her back into the darkness of the room. Cassie pointed to the door, "Come on, we're leaving."

The boy shook his head again trying to mouth something to her. Cassie opened the door and stepped out into the hall. The boy reached up to shield his eyes with his arms as the light from the hallway filled the room. He whimpered against the light and refused to look up. Cassie actually wound up carrying him out of the room. After a few moments the boy's eyes adjusted to the light and he was able to walk on his own, clinging to Cassie's hand.

'How long did Ra's keep him in the dark,' Cassie mused as she looked at the boy. He was pale, wiry, probably not a spare ounce of fat on him, the battered black martial arts uniform hung on his frame. He must have hidden his other clothes so Ra's wouldn't take them.

Did she mention he was pale? The poor boy looked like he'd never been in the sun, his skin milky white in comparison the black garment. It was also obvious in the light that Ra's hadn't been taking as good of care of the boy as he might have liked to believe. She'd seen the shadows under his eyes from restless nights, the jitters…and the wounds he had from training.

Maybe she should have let Bruce in on this whole thing…though she hesitated to admit it, Bruce would probably do a better number on Ra's then she ever could.

The League's warehouse was vast and built like a maze, but after a few pointed out hallways from the boy, Cassandra started to recognize the way she'd left the building earlier that night. They almost made it to the front door to.

There was just the problem of the 30 armed assassins blocking the way.

"Damn…Bat-man I think I need help here," Cassie said pressing the transmitter in her ear as the boy shrunk behind her.

"_Bat-girl, it's Robin, Bat-man's gone but he wanted me to stay and…wait what's going on why do you need help?" _The voice on the line was no longer a deep baritone, but the familiar tenor of someone her own age.

"Oh just something like a little over two dozen assassins armed to the teeth staring me down," Cass muttered bitterly grabbing the boys shoulder and pushing him behind her when he seemed to freeze on the spot. When Ra's al Ghoul appeared at the front of the large lethal team, she understood the boys panic.

"Dr. Cassidy how nice to see you about or would you prefer to be called Dr. Cain, it was so nice of you to visit I'm sure your former employees agree?"

There were grumbles from the assassins… oh yeah they remembered her.

"_Oh no, that's Ra's isn't it," _Tim said. He recognized the voice, he probably needn't have asked at all.

"Ah and you've brought my wayward grandson out of his room, how unfortunate…Damian, come here."

"_Damian, like the boy from the Omen…wait did he just say Grandson?"_

Damian froze for a moment…his grandfather hadn't called him by name since he had come to live with him always calling him 'boy' instead. This was a premonition of the punishment that was to come. Though Dr. Cassidy kept a firm grip on his shoulder Damian took a reflexive step forward.

"You know what, stay there…kill the good Doctor," Ra's said in a smug tone.

Damian froze, his mind flashed back to the bear.

Its lifeless eyes after he had sliced through it's spine with his sword…the remorse and the tears that had inevitably gotten him punished, shoved into the dark. All those years he had been hardened into a weapon, groomed to kill, fearing his 10th birthday and his initiation as Leader of the League of Assassins. Had he been so foolish when he'd hoped to meet his father…the man that Ra's al Ghoul despised which inevitably made him good in the boys mind?

No…he realized slowly.

It wasn't foolish to hope…hope was what kept him going in that dark room, through all the punishment and torture…when it could have been so easy just to give up and slit his throat with the sword his grandfather had given him, and end his torment. Even if he hadn't realized it, he had always hoped that somehow he would escape this life…it was why he was still here, it was why he still held remorse over his actions instead of becoming the mindless killer his grandfather wanted. Whether it was hoping his mother would return, that he'd somehow escape on his own, or that someone would come and save him…

Someone had come to save him.

"Kill her Damian," his grandfather said again. Damian stood rigid and held his head up defiantly. The words came out raspy and soft but they were there.

"I…will…not," He rasped.

"You heard him Ghoul…he said 'no'," A voice said from the shadows. As suddenly as the voice had spoken a figure leapt from the darkness, in a swirl of black and silver. The figure was upon the assassins in mere seconds and had already dispatched 5 of them with bizarrely shaped throwing weapons.

"Glad you didn't listen to me," Cassie said leaping forward to join the fray.

"_What's going on," _Tim asked.

"Bruce's paternal instincts kicked in," Cassie said elbowing an assassin in the head as she kicked another in the gut.

"_What," _Tim asked again.

Damian stood rooted to the spot his eyes wide and his mouth open. Dr. Cassidy and the man in the black cape were fighting 30 trained fighters…and they were winning. He watched as the tall figure in the black cape and cowl pulled more throwing weapons out of his belt, and fought with skill he had never seen before. Could this be…?

Damian was yanked out of his thoughts when a hand grabbed his shoulder. He looked up terrified to see his grandfather's furious face. Hoisting the boy up Ra's held a dagger to his throat, "If you don't want your own flesh and blood spilling blood on the floor, you will cease your fighting…_Bruce!_"

The last word was spoken with such venom and hatred that Damian knew who the man in black was instantly.

The fighting stopped, but the assassins were already all unconscious on the floor.

"I should break your neck Ra's…what did you do to him?" The man in black said again.

"Why I merely pushed him to the fullest extent of his noble blood. My fair daughter's intellect and killer instinct, and the fight prowess of you, the Bat-Man, are potential this boy must meet."

"Put-him- DOWN!" Bruce bellowed startling Cassie, Damian, and even Tim back in the cave who had been reeling over the knowledge that Bruce had a son.

"Oh no, I've put far too much time into grooming my heir to simply let him go," Ra's said backing away. Damian realized what was happening…he was going to be pulled into the dark again. He struggled and managed to slip out of the top half of his uniform. Dropping to the ground he ran towards the safety of…his father. When Ra's threw the dagger, Damian ignored it as it sliced through the side of his upper arm while Cassie and Bruce gasped. Bruce threw a bat-a-rang with lethal intent, hatred flashing in his eyes as Cassie grabbed Damian who had no idea what the sudden fuss was about.

"You miserable monster," Bruce yelled.

Ra's al Ghoul was no fool though, and while he hadn't anticipated Damian's escape, he had anticipated the need for a quick escape of his own. The 10 other assassins that had been lurking nearby leapt forward to protect there leader, one of them deflecting the bat-a-rang with a sword. As the doors of the warehouse started to close, separating the Bat-Clan members from the assassins Ra's glared through the narrowing opening.

"This isn't over Bruce, Cassandra…and Damian," the boy cringed at his name; Ra's continued, "I will get you back…and you will be punished."

The boy for once didn't quake in fear at his grandfather's words. Narrowing his eyes he spoke in a low and serious voice, "Don't waste…your breath…old man."

The doors shut with a resounding click leaving the three bats alone. The sounds of helicopters taking off soon filled the room.

"Bat-man, should we," Cassie started but stopped when she saw Bruce looking at Damian. The boy looked back, identical blue eyes appraising each other. When the boy held out a hand, Bruce hesitated only a moment before gripping it.

-To be Continued-


	3. Chapter 3: A New Name, A New Life

Chapter 3: Finally Free

"Damien," Bruce said, "It's perfectly safe."

The boy stayed huddled in the corner of the Bat-Jet shaking his head urgently, as his father and Cassie both tried to coax him out.

"Dark…" he murmured huddling back down, "Too dark."

"Cave lights on 60%," Bruce said. At his command the lights in the Bat-Cave flipped on, momentarily blinding the trio. When the boy could finally see through the spots that dotted his gaze he let his jaw drop.

He was in an enormous cavern, full of strange equipment and trophies.

Intrigued he leapt out of the Bat-Jet dashed between his father's legs and ran towards the giant dinosaur first. Poking and kicking it got him no response so he dashed over to the glass cases holding costumes, and strange looking symbols. A giant pair of playing cards, a giant penny, a tooth from something that was probably very big, masks…it was all strange and new to him.

Bruce and Cassie watched as the boy ran back and forth to each piece of crime-fighting memorabilia Bat-man had collected over the years. As Damian, as Ra's called him, pulled faces at the Gray-Ghost costume trying to get a response Cassie and Bruce quietly spoke to each other.

"He's so… innocent isn't he?" Bruce murmured. Cassie nodded, "After what he went through that's a miracle."

Bruce watched as the boy…his son stood in front of the glass cases containing the retired costumes of Robin, Bat-Girl, and the previous incarnations of the Bat-man. As the boy stood before the original costume he didn't cringe in fear as had been the most frequent reaction to the costume. Rather he looked intrigued and as he placed a hand on the case, admiring.

"Here," Cassie broke Bruce out of his trance by handing him a file out of the pocket of her doctor's disguise.

"It's…a log of his training, I filched it before I went to get him, I only skimmed it but," Cassie paused as a wave of anger washed over her.

"Damn it, Bruce I already counted 10 times they almost killed him!"

"How," Bruce couldn't bring himself to open the file, he only stared at the boy who was now looking confused at the old Robin uniform, staring at the pixie boots.

"They've thrown daggers at him, shot him, hit and fought him…god Bruce for five years they've kept him locked in a dark room of hell."

"How could she let this happen?"

The question was quiet but Cassie heard it, and she knew exactly who Bruce was talking about.

"Um," Cassie muttered, "where's Tim exactly?"

"Upstairs, briefing Alfred," Bruce said half-heartedly like he was talking to himself.

"I'm…uh, gonna give you two some time alone, you have a lot to talk about," And in a swirl of her coat she was gone up the stairs. Moments later the boy came wandering back to the plane looking left and right for Cassie.

"She went up stairs," Bruce explained. The boy nodded…then there was silence as for the second time that night two pairs of identical blue eyes locked and simply stared.

'It's like looking into a mirror,' Bruce thought. When he'd first heard of Damian he had been skeptical to say the least. Thinking back to his relationship with Talia…that night when he was drugged…trying to figure out if it was true. On the way to Ra's' base he'd thought of a million possibilities: Talia's son by another man, an orphan of the street, would a DNA confirm that he was the boys father or that it was a sick joke…but now…

Damien was a carbon copy of how he himself had looked at 9 years old, the same unruly hair, same height…but there were differences. Different ears, a smaller nose, the pale skin that had never had contact with direct sunlight, the bruises and scars on his bare chest and arms, the shadows under his eyes were the only physical differences.

In the boys eyes though Bruce saw something that chilled him to the bone; those blue eyes were haunted by the same pain and misery Bruce's eyes had been filled with since that cursed night when his parents were shot in the alleyway in front of him…those eyes had seen death. The boy shivering caught Bruce's attention and acting on what he could only surmise was his paternal instinct he removed the cape and cowl of his costume and wrapped them around Damien's shoulders. The boy clutched the material to his thin body, sniffing it curiously and wrinkling his nose.

Bruce couldn't help cracking a small smile.

The boy looked up at his father and stared at him. This was the first time he had seen his whole face…and they looked so much alike. Mother had once told him he looked like his father, Grandfather had damned him for it… but they were right in the fact that he looked like his father. And the smile his father gave him…he couldn't help echoing it with his own.

"I'm so sorry that happened to you," Bruce said putting his hands on the boy's shoulders, "But you won't be hurt like that ever again, not while I'm breathing and have fight left in me."

The boy opened his mouth to speak again, at first only managing to make raspy noises until…

"You…won't abandon…me…not like…mother," He asked. Bruce felt his heart clench but he nodded, "I won't abandon you like Talia did, I promise."

The boy felt a familiar pressure behind his eyes, a burning that before had meant punishment…but here…

Bruce watched as tears welled up in the boy's eyes, the boy's expression of confusion as if he was unfamiliar with this most ancient expression of human suffering and pain…and happiness. Hesitantly the boy stepped forward and pressed himself against Bruce's chest, looking up at him waiting for a reaction. Bruce's arms automatically banded around the boys slim frame and pulled him into a tight hug.

"Your safe…my son," and those words laid all of Bruce's doubts on the matter to rest.

***

"Seriously though, his son," Tim asked for the 20th time in the past 3 minutes. Cassie nodded staring at the entrance to the cave. The fact that the entrance was a grandfather clock that was ticking the minutes away just made it more irritating.

"I'm more concerned for the manner in which the boy was raised, what the poor child has been through," Alfred murmured. Cassie knew how he felt.

"Do you think Bruce will want to re-name him," Tim asked. When Alfred and Cassie stared at him he shrugged, "I mean in the Omen 'Damien' was the name of the Anti-Christ and while that isn't a big deal under most circumstances this boy is technically the grandson of 'The Demon'…it's like they wanted to scar him in all senses."

He had a point.

There thoughts were interrupted when the entrance to the bat-cave opened and Bruce came out, still in full costume save for the cape which was wrapped securely around the small boy clinging to his arm. To there shock Bruce gave them one of his rare genuine smiles. He gripped the boys shoulder and tugged him in front of him.

"Everyone…I want you to meet my son, Thomas Alfred Wayne."

-To be continued-


	4. Chapter 4: Meet the Capes

**Disclaimer: I forgot to put this in early chapters, but this applies to all of them.**

**I do not own Batman or any of the DC Comics characters that appear in this story, Tommy may be original in personaltiy but he is based off of an existing character.**

**All characters are property of DC comics and there respective creators.**

Chapter 4: Meet the Capes

Tommy wiggled on the sofa in his father's room.

After all the events that had transpired that night it was a unanimous decision that Tommy, he liked his new, should stay in his father's room for the time being.

Still though, he wasn't very comfortable.

The room was big, and dark, full of lots of places where assassins and fighters could be hiding. Sitting up he watched fascinated as a flock of winged creatures flew past the window as the sun started to rise. Yawning, he already knew he wouldn't be able to sleep after an hour of tossing on the sofa. He curiously looked in the direction of his father's bed where he could hear him breathing. Climbing off the sofa, wearing a sleep-shirt way too big for him, Tommy crept across the floor and carefully peeked at his father's sleeping face. Reassured Tommy made a little make-shift bed on the floor beside his father's bed and curled up to sleep peacefully for the first time in a long while.

***

The next morning when Bruce got out of bed and stepped on a lump that let out a pained squeak he nearly had a heart-attack when something flew out of a pile of rumpled blankets on the floor and tried to grab for his throat. He instinctively grabbed his attacker's arms and readied to throw…Tommy?

When his son realized who had stepped on him he looked surprised.

"Tommy," Bruce said letting his grip loosen on the boy's arms, "What were you doing on the floor?"

Tommy groggily knuckled his eyes and yawned, "Sleeping…dark…no felt safe…"

Bruce sighed they would need to work on Tommy's language skills. When Tommy rested his head against Bruce's shoulder, he realized dully that the boy had fallen back asleep. Reluctant to jar his son from his restful sleep again, Bruce sat there wrapping a blanket around Tommy until he was sure he was fast asleep then tucked him into the large bed. Getting up he dressed and headed downstairs, he needed to talk to Alfred. What he hadn't expected was to walk into a small congregation of the superhero community in his kitchen.

"Aw, hell," he muttered.

"So," Olive Queen asked smugly, "When were we all going to hear about the little mini-bat?"

Bruce ignored the man known as Green Arrow to grab a mug from a cupboard and pour himself some coffee. He'd done a quick head count upon entering the room, and found: Superman a.k.a. Clark Kent, Ollie his wife Dinah a.k.a. the Black Canary and there son Conner, Roy Harper a.k.a. Red Arrow, Wally West a.k.a. the Flash, Dick Grayson a former Robin currently going under the alias Nightwing, Barbara Gordon the former Bat-Girl now going by Oracle, the current Robin and Bat-Girl Tim Drake and Cassandra Cain…and his butler Alfred who was cooking a feast for the unexpected guests.

"So," Dick said slowly, "Who does he look like?"

Tim jumped in, "He's like a little Bruce clone."

"He really is, same eyes, he even gave me the Bat-glare the first time I met him," Cassandra put her two cents in.

Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose he could already feel a headache coming on.

"How old is he," Dinah asked.

"9 almost 10," Cassie put in.

"Hold it," Bruce ordered and the room grew silent, "Can someone please tell me why you're all here?"

There was silence.

"We wanted to meet him Bruce, you've got to admit we kind of didn't see this coming," Wally West spoke the words they were all thinking. Bruce opened his mouth to argue but shut it realizing he hadn't thought this would happen either.

"Look as fun as this all is, I just met the boy myself yesterday and didn't know he existed previously, I barely know him myself…so if you all are planning on asking me questions about him, I can't answer them."

Silence again, until this time Clark Kent spoke.

"Well, where is he," The man of steel asked.

"Up-stairs in bed asleep," Bruce muttered sipping from his coffee cup.

"Bed," Cassie asked. She was the one who had helped tuck Tommy in for the night.

"He was sleeping on the floor for some random reason last night," Bruce sighed.

"The floor," Barbara asked.

"He made himself a little spot and everything next to my bed," Bruce affirmed.

"That's…kind of cute," Oliver Queen was trying hard not to laugh.

"It was not," Bruce hissed, "I stepped on him this morning and he attacked me!"

There was silence again in the kitchen. Alfred who hadn't spoken the entire time turned from the stove, "Well aren't we off to a brilliant start."

The kitchen was full of laughter, and Bruce was fuming.

Tommy stood cautiously outside of the kitchen. After his father had left he had crawled out of bed and gone looking for him, not wanting to stay in the large room alone. He'd nearly gotten lost on the way downstairs until he'd heard the sound of voices coming from the kitchen. The sound of laughter he was hearing now was foreign to him. As was the sweet smell that was coming through the doorway, he was suddenly aware of how hungry he was. Stealthily he snuck into the room, holding a blanket around his shoulders. Only Alfred noticed the boy's entrance, everyone else was to busy laughing, and smiled at the boy whose eyes could barely peak over the counter-top at him.

He put a plate of pancakes laden with maple syrup on the bar top in front of Tommy and helped him onto a stool. The second Tommy took a cautious first bite he tucked in and was lost to the world of reality.

Despite his enthusiasm the boy had excellent table manners, no doubt a by product of his grandfather's training, but Alfred felt his anger at Ra's melt when the boy gave him a look full of thanks.

He was already fond of this boy who shared his name.

Turning back to the still laughing heroes Alfred's eyes caught Bruce's and he cocked his head in Tommy's direction, who was watching the exchange with interest. Bruce blushed, 'Great I'm being laughed at in front of my son'. Tommy waved with a syrupy smile before eating again.

"So did the kid really attack you," Roy asked. Bruce sighed, "Yes, because he thought I was attacking him."

Ollie was still laughing. Bruce glared, "Hey he got closer to actually doing some damage then you ever have."

That started another round of laughter. Tommy was smiling…and he couldn't figure out why. Between the sweet sticky food Alfred had given him and all the laughter in the room though he was one big ball of smiles right now. Shivering a little in his shirt and shorts Tommy pulled the blanket up over his head like a hood and finished off his pancakes. Full and well rested, he felt really hyper…yes hyper was a good word for it. Climbing carefully down from the stool he started walking toward his father and the small crowd of people, curiosity overwhelming shyness. He stood just behind the tall man with dark hair having to tilt his head all the way back to see where the man's head was. He shifted from one foot to the other trying to figure out a way around the big man. Finding none he ducked down and walked between the man's legs.

Clark Kent blinked as a little blue ghost walked underneath him and towards Bruce.

Bruce looked down when a hand tugged on his pant leg and saw Tommy wrapped in a blanket looking up at him. He was so small it looked like the bedding was trying to eat him. He also looked tired again…Alfred's pancakes could do that to you. When Tommy started rubbing his eyes again Bruce reached down and picked him. Bruce saw Clark smirking at him as Tommy cuddled against his chest and fell asleep. Around that time Cassie and Tim had noticed there younger siblings arrival and had also smiled. When the laughter still hadn't died down Cassie finally had had it.

"Shush!" She hissed.

The small crowd stopped laughing and looked at her, and when she pointed, looked at Bruce. Bruce stood undaunted by the stares and shocked looks he was getting and smirked.

"I don't think Tommy is up for introductions right now."

With that he left the room. Clark, Alfred, Tim, and Cassie all smiled at each other while the others gaped at the sight of the big bad Batman carrying a little boy like he was a teddy bear.

"Would anyone care for pancakes," Alfred said cheerfully.

-to be continued-


End file.
